


My Utter Fixation

by TehRevving



Series: The Prisoner (Yandere AU) [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BDSM, Daggers, F/M, Kidnapping, Marking, Panic Attacks, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 19:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehRevving/pseuds/TehRevving
Summary: You don't know how long you've been trapped in Ignis' basement but you're running out of time; you can feel the Stockholm Syndrome beginning to eat away at you; you don't think you can hold out much longer. You spend your days waiting for an opening to escape but when one finally appears, you're not at all ready for the consequences.Yandere!Ignis x Female Reader. Non Con. Kidnapping. Mind Break. Stockholm Syndrome. BSDM. Sexual Injury.





	My Utter Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone.  
> Happy Valentine's Day
> 
> Please read the tags and stay safe.

Time loses meaning quickly when you have no way to track it; when the only glimpse of the outside world you have exposure to, is the tiny window that you can barely see from the bed you’ve been chained to. You don’t know how long you’ve been trapped in this locked room; Six knows how long you had called this prison your home. It had been weeks for sure, possibly even months and you wondered if your family missed you; if anyone cared that you had disappeared without a trace.

The only thing that broke up the monotony of your waking hours was of course, the nightly return of the psychopath Ignis Scientia; your captor, rapist, lover and provider.

Your days were filled with the twisted routine that was the life of Ignis Scientia. He was the only person you had seen since you had been locked away down here; the only person you had been able to interact with.

Your day would start with his body wrapped around yours on the bed that was your permanent living space. With his breath hot and humid against your neck, strong arms too tight around your waist and the incessant press of his hard cock nestled against your ass. He would wrap his long limbs around you in a way that made it impossible to escape; trapping you in an overheating embrace that was simultaneously comforting and disgusting. You were utterly unable to get away from him.

His alarm would go off each morning at 6am - he never adjusted it, even when he had no morning plans that day. You had managed to steal a glance at the screen on his phone one morning before he snatched it away from you; you weren’t allowed anywhere near his technology.

Ignis would moan sleepily against you and lavish kisses across your neck and shoulders while his hips bucked gently against you, rubbing his morning wood against the curve of your ass. He would run his hands across your chest slowly, moving lower until his hand would slip down to your core. He would make you come at least once with his fingers, making you buck and cry out against him while he held your shaking body against his own.

He would wait until you were relaxed and boneless from orgasm before he would reach down to press his cock inside you. Ignis would fuck - no, force himself inside your tight heat and rape you. Large hands splayed across your hips and thigh with finger tips digging into your skin until they bruised; teeth scraping against the back of your neck and the slick sound of his cock rocking in and out of your wet heat until he would find his own release with a guttural cry of your name muffled against your skin.

He would call you a dirty kitten while he struggled to catch his breath. Staying inside of you until his cock was soft and slipped out. He never went multiple times in the morning, only ever once. Ignis would force you out of bed and pull you into the shower with him; to wash away the sweat and grime off your filthy bodies but you never truly felt clean.

In some ways he was clinical; thrusting fingers inside of you to clean away his essence from your channel. In others he was tender, massaging shampoo into your scalp with one of the most sensual touches you had ever experienced. It was impossible not to relax as he propped you up against his strong chest as the spray beat down upon you from above. Ignis was tall and warm and comforting, even if he was the one putting you through this.

He would worship your body as he dried it with a towel, one that felt like it cost more than you had used to earn in a month. He would dress you in simple clothing - singlets and sweat pants, that were far too comfortable. He would always ask if you were too warm or too cold, he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable while he was out for the whole day.

There would be breakfast; always something he had brought with him the night before. Pastries or savoury breads that were always delicious.

Ignis would chain you back to the bed, ensuring that you were utterly helpless and unable to escape or hurt yourself; making sure that anything that could possibly be used as a weapon was out of your reach. Ignis would be mostly dressed but not as put together as he appeared when he returned in the evenings. He was obviously finishing up his morning routine somewhere else. It made sense you supposed. He would need to shave and wouldn’t want there to be a razor anywhere near you.

Ignis would kiss you goodbye, a deep one to your mouth until you were almost out of breath before departing through the large door that was the entrance to your prison. It took you far too long to notice that the door had biometrics on it and that it wasn’t operated by a key. It gave you hope that if you were somehow able to knock him out and drag his heavy body to the door that you would be able to escape, but it also meant that there wasn’t a key for you to steal.

The rest of your days would be spent bored out of your mind. There was just simply nothing to do. You would sleep in between bouts of thoughts of plotting your escape. There were so many options that you had to think through so that you would be able to react to them at a moments notice if the situation arose. You were constantly on the lookout for an unattended phone or a moment of weakness but there was nothing. Ignis was immaculate and meticulous with everything he did; everything was always out of your reach or on his person.

Ignis would return, hours later once the sun had set. His light footsteps walking down the stairs towards you, the way his face would light up when he saw you was both endearing and terrifying. Ignis would walk towards you, kiss you hard like you were the only thing keeping him alive and release your chains.

He would always bring food, delicious gourmet dishes that made your stomach growl. He would pull you to the table in the corner of the room and feed you. The food was amazing and you were sure that it wasn’t just because you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He would sit you on his lap and press a fork to your lips, he seemed to get immense satisfaction out of you enjoying your meal but he would always control the size of your portions.

After dinner was the worst part by far. You would be full and sated, he would lead you to the bed and have his own dessert between your legs.

This man knew how to work your body and took great pleasure in making you scream for him, in making you gush copious amounts of fluid against his mouth that he would lap up eagerly. Ignis was improving with his own self-control. He would no longer lose himself to pleasure at the sight of your hips writhing against him but he still wasn’t able to stop himself when you slipped up and screamed out his name to the Six when you came against his lips.

He would wait until you were incoherent from more orgasms than you could count before he would fuck you. The positions changed on the regular but he was always in control. You preferred it when he took you from behind because then, at least you could shut your eyes and pretend that you were anywhere else and that someone - anyone else was doing this to you. That it was  _ consensual _ . It was all too easy to forget that it was Ignis thrusting his fucking curved cock straight against your g-spot over and over again until you couldn’t help tighten your walls around his cock and cry out his name.

Once Ignis was spent, once he was exhausted he would pull you to his heaving, lean chest; muttering sweet nothings against your ear while his body came down from its high. He told you that you were perfect, that your body was incredible and made for him, that you felt like no one else he had ever had, that the way you would tighten around him and the way your voice would sing out his name in the throes of pleasure was the most incredible thing he would ever be able to experience.

You hated it, the way your body would betray you and curl itself up into the warmth of his embrace. The way you almost purred at the post coital attention he gave you; that you let yourself relax to the sound of his steady breathing and took comfort in the fact that there was a man that thought you were his entire world.

Ignis would help you up while struggling to move with his own unsteady legs. He would help you clean up with another shower at this point. He would sit you down while he changed the sheets on the bed; something he didn’t bother with usually but ever since he had worked out how to make you squirt and decided that the excess of your essence against his lips, staining his jaw and running down his chest was something that he enjoyed very much, they needed to be changed more often. 

He would feed you chocolates while you lay propped up against his chest, underneath an abundance of soft, thick blankets. He would talk to you then, proper conversations about your life and his own; he would ask about your past, your ambitions and dreams, which you didn’t understand because he stole all of them away from you. At first you had tried to lie to him but then you couldn’t be bothered keeping track of the lies anymore and couldn’t see the point in it. It was easy to relax, to crave the heat of his embrace and to miss it whenever he was no longer there.

It was too easy to miss him with the way words would effortlessly flow between you, the way you could make jokes with him once you had let down your walls. The way that the corner of his eyes would crinkle up when he laughed at a joke you made, the way he would squeeze you to his chest in happiness; it was  _ easy _ to become enamoured with this man.

So, this was your life now. Today - not that the word had any meaning anymore to you - was no different and you were waiting for Ignis to return for the night. You steadied yourself, prepared yourself for what you knew would come, it was inevitable now.

You waited, facing the barricade to the outside world until it began to shift and Ignis Scientia walked through it.

The man that came through that door tonight was not the normal, impeccable man that you were used to seeing. He looked tired and it was almost immediately obvious once he stepped through the door - his shoulders slightly hunched over, body folding in on itself instead of his normal pin-straight posture. It was easier to see as he got closer, the way his usually perfectly coiffed hair was hanging down in loose strands over his eyes, how his eyes looked dark behind his spectacles. It was impossible to miss the way that his eyes lit up when they settled on your form in the centre of the bed. It was endearing - twisted and wonderful to know that there was someone out there that felt that way about you; someone that felt so strongly for you were that you were able to incite that sort of reaction from another human being.

He walked in and dumped his bags with less care than what he normally used with all his possessions at the base of the stairs. You grew worried about how he would treat you, but you only had a second before you were being scooped up into his arms.

Ignis pulled you by your waist to his solid torso, bending his knees slightly so that he could hook your jaw over his shoulders. He pressed his cheek to yours, nuzzling at your hair while his arms squeezed you to him until it was difficult to breathe, your feet barely touching the ground as he pressed your body as close as he could to his own.

It was difficult to focus on anything but the scent of him enveloping you, the comforting warmth radiating from him, until he started speaking in a low affectionate voice.

 

“Six, I missed you today,” he whispered against your ear, running his lips gently across the shell of it as his hands moved to your hips and your feet were allowed to touch the floor once again. “My sweet songbird,” he cooed at you as he pulled away slightly to lean down and kiss you.

This kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and soft as they parted slightly in a light touch against your own. It was easy to pretend that you were actual lovers as he softly sucked your bottom lip between his own. Easy to forget that you were being held captive when your bodies were pressed together, affectionate and soft. You hated that the scent of him no longer repulsed you, that the heady mix of soap, cologne and leather on his skin no longer made you cringe.

When Ignis pulled away from you, keeping you in his arms but allowing there to be actual space between your bodies you could see the tension immediately bleeding away from his features. He kept an arm around your waist as he unbuckled the chain from your neck and then pulled you with him as he stepped back to pick up some of the bags he had dropped, leading you to the table.

“I must apologise, my love,” he says as he lays containers on the table, “I simply couldn’t bring myself to cook tonight.” He takes a seat and pulls you into his lap, his hand hooked around your middle to keep you steady, his chin resting on your shoulder. It’s terribly domestic and you can’t help but feel a spark of  _ something _ at the wholesome gesture. It’s quickly interrupted though once he starts undoing the lids on containers of fried food and your stomach starts growling.

Ignis chuckles at you, a soft sound that seems to break whatever tension had begun to leak into the air that. He starts to stroke his thumb at your hip absentmindedly while the incredible smell of food begins to permeate your senses. Ignis squeezes his fingers on your hip gently before moving his arm to your waist, holding you securely to him, “Help yourself, my love.”

You reach out for food, expecting to be reprimanded for trying to eat on your own without him controlling your portions or trying to eat without him feeding you directly. You’re surprised when he lets you take a fry and bring it to your lips. It’s when you’re about to put it in your mouth that you have an idea, something that might get you some brownie points.

You turn slightly on his lap until you’re facing him. Ignis looks at you questioningly, emerald eyes full of affection and trained on you. The whole thing is disturbing but you’re sort of getting addicted to it. You move your hand and hold your fry out in front of his lips. He smiles at you and opens his mouth slightly, allowing you to feed him like he always does to you.

Ignis chews slowly, appearing to savour the taste while he brings his long-fingered hand up to wrap around your own. He brings your fingers into his mouth, licking the salt off them and running his tongue over them in a way that definitely isn’t innocent.

He laughs as your fingers leave his lips with a small pop and that sets the tone for the rest of dinner. It’s very domestic; the way he holds you to his body and presses food to your lips while you return the favour. It’s more like a game than a meal, a playful game between lovers than an interaction between a prisoner and their captor.

By the time you have both eaten your fill, all of the stress from the day seems to have completely disappeared. He has a beaming smile on his face, paired with an infectious laugh that vibrates through your body when he tightens his grip on you. You appear to have done the right thing and he wants to reward you for it, nuzzling into your neck and digging fingers into your side to tickle you while you squirm in his lap.

“You are absolutely exquisite,” he whispers in your ear as he unwraps his arm from your waist, gesturing at you to get up and then stands up once you’re on your feet. Once again pulling you into his arms and pressing you to his chest, tilting your head so your ear is pressed against his soft shirt just over his heart, adjusting slightly to slot you against him with your height difference.

Ignis leans down to kiss you and the movement breaks you out of your peaceful reverie because now, it’s time for dessert and everything else that comes after. But this kiss isn’t particularly sexual. It’s deep and sweet; like he’s trying to pour out all of his feelings for you. He tastes delicious, like left over food with a faint touch of coffee.

Ignis leads you to the bed, sitting against the headboard and then setting you to sit on the bed next to him, curling his your shoulders until you’re pressed against his chest.

“I must apologise for my behaviour earlier,” he says, but you can’t work out what he’s apologising for, “I had a particularly tiring day and I am quite grateful that it is over.”

 

You can hear the rumble of his voice vibrating through his chest against your skin, feel the gentle cadence of his breathing as your head moved up and down on his chest in time with it.

“Would you like to talk about it?” you say softly, finding it difficult to be assertive when you’re starting to be lulled into relaxation against his body. You don’t really care; but then again, the more you can learn about him the greater your chance to get out of this place.

“Something happened today, there was an… unforeseen incident,” he pauses, “My charge did not take it particularly well. He hadn’t expected it to happen.” Ignis sighed, “She was doing so well too.”

He turned to look down at you, tilting your head up until you were making eye contact with him through the lenses of his glasses. “You must promise me you will not try to escape my sweet songbird. After seeing how much it affected my charge, I am unsure if I would be able to hold myself together.”

He looks at you expectantly, like he wants a response from you. You take a deep breath, ready to lie. Of course, it was only a matter of time before you managed to escape, you were sure of it. But you decided that you didn't have to lie, not about this. You look up at him with the most pitiful look that you can muster.

“I miss you so much when you’re not here Ignis.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he whispers to you as he squeezes his arm around your shoulders. “You must believe me when I say that if I was able, I would spend all of my time here with you,” he leans down to press his lips softly against your hair, “There is nothing that makes me happier than hearing your voice and feeling the heat of your being against my own.”

It’s almost beautiful, hearing someone say words like that to you; fulfilling something deep inside of you that you hadn’t realised you needed. You felt invincible, pressed against the warm chest of a man who would do anything for you. In the arms of someone warm and sweet; to be able to feel the vibrations of their words and their laughter against your cheek. It was easy to imagine growing old with someone like that, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

For the first time since you had woken up here, you felt like there wasn’t such a power imbalance; that maybe you could be lovers and equals. This evening had been too domestic; it was easy to forget how easily Ignis could hurt you, keep you locked here until you starved, or went mad. You didn’t want to trust him but when he was here, smiling with a genuine joy that lit up the whole room, sometimes you had to second guess yourself.

There were too many thoughts in your head, the fight between giving in to being with him and trying to fight. Trying to reconcile the love and affection that you felt, wondering in the back of your head if it was all pretend, a coping mechanism for your surroundings or maybe you were just reflecting his feelings back at him, and starting to believe them yourself.

You began to feel the opposite of relaxed as he pressed you further into his chest and curled you around his warm body. You felt your heart start to race when he began to stroke your cheek and press kisses to your forehead. You suddenly couldn’t control your breathing when he started whispering voiceless words against your hair; your mind started to get filled with clouds as your hands began to shake.

Ignis noticed that something wasn’t quite right once you started shuddering against his chest. Your vision began to blur as he moved from behind you, holding you upright with his hands on either side of your arms.

“Are you alright, my love?” His voice full of concern but the words had no meaning when they hit your ears. You were floating up and away from your body, cold and shivering and alone.

Ignis said your name and suddenly your vision focused enough to see his panicked expression and that was it. He was an anchor, right? You were overcome with the overwhelming need to touch him, to have him touch you because you were freezing, your skin numbed.

You opened your mouth, wondering if words would come out. It was muffled as the sound seemed to struggle to reach your own ears, “Ignis,” you said, pitiful and weak.

“Yes, I’m here.” He says as you feel heat snake its way arms. He’s touching you, holding you. Then he brings a hand to your forehead and you’re on fire; vision completely gone as the sound of your heart pounds in your ears.

“Touch me, Ignis,” you breathe out, your voice shaky.

“I am darling,” he says confused and muffled through the blood echoing in your ears, but he pulls you to his chest anyway. You bury your head into what you can feel is the junction between his neck and shoulder. You felt more grounded as his scent begins to surround you, but it’s not enough; you need  _ more _ .

You say his name again as arms come around you, large hands spread across your back. He presses his cheek to your hair again but it’s still not enough; you’re shaking violently in his arms.

“Ignis…” You whine his name weakly, as your heart pounds in your ears.

“Closer,” you whine to him, bringing a shaky hand to try and start unbuttoning his shirt. You can’t obviously; between the tremors in your fingers and the flashing focus of your vision, it’s impossible to even grasp onto the buttons.

Ignis is trying to ask you what you want, what’s wrong and what you need but you can’t answer. But he seems happy to take over for you, one of his hands moving from your back to start undoing his buttons. Somewhere, at the back of your mind, you’re impressed that he can do it with only one hand.

You press your face to his pale skin once it’s exposed to you; it’s warm and soft to the touch. The moles and marks littering his skin fading in and out of focus when you press your hands over his heart.

You can feel it beating, a solid rhythm that is faster than you think it should be. His heart is racing, moving so quickly because of  _ you _ and it’s comforting. You lean your head against where your hand was a moment ago. It was something to focus on, the rhythm of your Ignis; an anchor when you’re shaking and floating outside of your skin. He will protect you, be there for you; it’s comforting and you need more.

You press yourself closer to him. Time seems to slow against the quick beating of his heart and the softness of his skin. He cradles you in his arms, moving his thumbs in a gentle caress against the backs of your arms and the small of your back; pressing talented fingers to pressure points on your body. But it isn’t enough.

“Closer,” you whine at him.

“My love,” he says because he can’t get any closer to you, not really. He’s squeezing you against his chest; there’s only one way he could be closer.

“Inside me Ignis,” you cry out to him, “Smother me with your body.”

 

He seems apprehensive. He’s not fucking touching you and your heart is pounding. So that’s it then, happy to rape you but not to take advantage of your emotional state, that wouldn’t do.

“Closer!” you scream at him but he isn’t listening. You start clawing at his pants deliriously, knowing you’re not even trying to unbutton them but Six, you know he can’t resist you.

You are kryptonite to him, all of his blood moving south once any part of you goes near his dick. Ignis is gone, rational thought disappearing from his brain as you beg for his body.

Ignis pulls you solidly into his lap and you straddle his hips eagerly. His hard, clothed erection pressing against your core making you moan and you’re sure he can feel the heat of you through your clothing. He swears at you when you grind against him, when he feels you start to leave slick on the crotch of his pants through the layers if fabric.

Ignis starts frantically trying to rip your clothes off while you heaved against his chest.

You’re scrabbling at his chest in your desperation to be near him while he struggles to undress you; you are not being co-operative. Ignis groans out in frustration and then there’s a flash of blue and suddenly your pants are falling off your body like they’ve been cut, and so are his. Your frantic mind flickers in some sort of recognition but you can’t concentrate on it, you can’t question it because Ignis is thrusting his cock inside your dripping heat. You’re screaming out his name to the world as he pushes himself to the hilt inside you while blood pounds in your ears.

In a twisted way it’s the first time you’ve made love; the first time the two of you have had consensual sex. Ignis holds you to his body, hands on your hips while he drags you up and down on his cock; his legs folded underneath him as he supports you with his strength.

You claw at his back and beg for more. You need him to be closer, to go harder. The more he pounds your g-spot, the less the blood pounds in your head and the more your vision seems to clear. You’re screaming out for him as your heart pounds like it’s going to break out of your chest; your breathing so loud you’re surprised that you can even hear the pounding slap of skin on skin over it.

You feel good when Ignis cries out against your shoulder and digs his teeth into the muscle there. You clench tight around his cock from the pain and Ignis groans out your name in a tone that is so desperate, it’s almost unbearable.

Ignis can’t believe that you want him, that you’re crying out for more and he can’t provide it. He is struggling not to come himself; trying desperately to keep a slow and steady pace but he can’t. He can’t handle the way your nails are scraping at his back and the way your legs are wrapped so tight around his hips it’s difficult for him to move them to fuck you.

Ignis comes with a desperate cry of your name; drawing blood from your shoulder as his body loses itself inside of yours. His hips start to slow but you don’t let him, your fingers digging into the meat of his ass and pulling at his hips.

He starts moaning out in overstimulation, burying his head into your neck and groaning out your name as you don’t let him stop. He stays hard; hot and pulsing as his previous release starts to drip out of you and onto the bed but it’s nowhere near enough.

“Closer. Harder,” you shriek at him. Ignis swears at you and throws you down on the bed; keeping his dick inside of you as he pushes your legs straight up against his chest and starts to pound you into the mattress. The whole bed is moving with the force of his thrusts; your body is shaking as all you can focus on is the searing heat filling your core.

Ignis folds you in half as he struggles to keep up the rough pace of his thrusts. He’s swearing at you, moaning out your name and praising the Astrals for your tight heat. There’s sweat pouring off him, his hair fallen completely in his face and stuck slick to his skin, glasses askew.

Your orgasm approaches without warning. You come around his cock with a scream of his name that feels like it shakes the walls. Ignis cries out and spills himself inside you again when you tighten so hard around him he can’t keep thrusting. He can’t help himself as he falls on top of you, completely dead weight against you. You’re being crushed by the weight of him but it feels so good for him to be close to you.

The pounding in your head starts to cease as you’re surrounded by the heat and scent of Ignis. The way his sweaty body pressed against yours as he’s absolutely boneless and moaning into the space near your head. His hips quivering slightly in overstimulation as your walls continue to flutter around him.

Slowly you can feel the fog lift from your head; your body beginning to respond to you again as you run a hand across Ignis’ hip gently to test your ability to control your limbs.

When Ignis finally comes to, pushing himself up on shaky arms and looking down at you with concern, he realises how long he’s been lying on top of you. He tries to separate from you, his cock still hard enough to keep your bodies together but you don’t let him. You grip him in your arms like a vice and he gasps out your name shakily.

 

Untangling your arms and body from him until he can separate you, he moans when his cock slips out with a wet squelching sound that echoes against the quiet room filled only with the hum of your hard breathing.

It feels like hours before Ignis is lifting you; his legs are shaking but you know he wouldn’t risk any harm to you. You’re not quite coherent but you don’t need to be; you know he will take care of you. Cleaning you up, holding you to his torso while he washes your body under warm spray. Something is done with the sheets and you’re laid down on clean ones that aren’t yet imbued with the scent of him.

Ignis lies down next to you and pulls you to him, encompassing you with his body and his scent. He is so much taller and broader than you are; it's easy for there to always be some part of him pressing against you. He strokes at your skin and presses kisses to your hair; it seems like he wants to talk to you but he’s too exhausted.

His breathing evens out against the back of your neck quickly, his grip on you loosening but your bodies are so twined together it would be impossible to separate them. You allow your eyes to shut and for you to become overwhelmed by him once more.

You’re concerned. Somewhere in a part of your brain that isn’t quite strong enough to surface, you're concerned that you’re happy being in his arms. How could you go from full blown freaking out and panic to now breathing calmly against these sheets; in almost the same position you were when you started. This man’s arms were the last place where you should feel safe but it’s impossible to give it more thought; not with your body is starting to shut down, it feels like you’re falling.

It’s soft and warm but deep down you know you have to get out of here before it’s too late, before the Stockholm Syndrome kicks in but maybe… 

maybe it already has.

\---

You were awake before Ignis’ alarm went off that morning. You had slept, too exhausted from whatever the fuck your body had decided to do the night before but the second that it had recovered, it threw you from your slumber, forcing you awake with your mind swirling.

What the fuck had happened last night? It was terrifying. Is this what it feels like to fall for your captor; for your conscious and subconscious mind to be at odds with each other. What is  _ wrong _ with you? The second things get slightly domestic, the second things begin to seem less like a nightmare, you start freaking out. What part of last night could have ever caused you to have a full-blown panic attack? You just can’t understand it. 

 

Of course, the way that you reacted to it didn’t help. Drawn to Ignis like he was your everything but that was your own fault. You were so used to pretending he was somebody else and taking comfort in him. That was something you really needed to stop but you weren’t sure if you could. How could you ever be expected to get through this without being able to take any comfort from another person?

You felt sick,  _ nauseous _ just thinking about all of it. Things could only go downhill from here, you had to get out of here as soon as possible - before it was too late.

You had to stop yourself from shaking once you heard the now familiar chime of Ignis’ phone, signalling that it was time for him to awaken. You were terrified of the morning playing out how it normally did, worried about your own spiraling thoughts.

Ignis began to stretch around you, reaching over to shut off his alarm. He mumbled something incoherent at it and then there were strong arms encircling you, his head burying into the top of your spine but his hips stayed away from you. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” He whispered softly into your ear, his voice rough with sleep and not quite fitting around the sounds of his accent yet. You nodded against him, not wanting to speak.

He held you close to him, not trying to make conversation, not trying to feel you up. He let you lie there as he awoke naturally instead of forcing himself on you. There was a strong hand pressing against your shoulders and then trailing in a feather light touch down the centre of your back. It felt incredible, especially so early in the morning and you couldn’t help but moan. You choked it off half way through, terrified that the sound would awaken him sexually.

Ignis began to push you gently down onto your front, holding you splayed face down on the bed with a large hand pressing into the centre of your back. Your breathing quickened. This was new and you waited, expecting the worst. But his hand only began working into your bare back; a massage. He was adjusting himself beside you until there were two hands working the knots from your back.

You felt boneless and couldn’t help but relax underneath him; it felt  _ good _ .

“Tell me what happened last night, my love.” Ignis says, voice soft and much more awake than before. He keeps kneading his fingers into your back and it’s difficult to respond.

“Panic attack, I think.” You murmur against the pillows, muffled but it seemed that he can hear you.

“I see,” the words seem to roll around his mouth like he’s still in thought. He moves his hands and starts rubbing at your neck and shoulders until you’ve practically melted into a puddle in the centre of the bed. He leans down to kiss your neck, pressing his lips against your skin as a way to finish off the massage.

Ignis is gentle as he lifts you to help you sit up, holding your body against his chest when you fell, absolutely lethargic against him. You’re relaxed and your muscles didn't seem like they wanted to work.

“You are absolutely stunning like this,” he chuckles and then he lifts you up bridal style. He hasn’t done that before, you note drowsily.

Ignis does everything for you that morning. It seemed that he was in absolutely no rush to get to work. He exchanged soft kisses with you in the shower that took far too long. His hands running all over your body but never overstepping any boundaries. He made you keen into his touch, resting against him as he pampered your body.

When he was ready to leave, he sat you down on the bed right next to the collar and chains that he normally attached to you. He looked at it, emerald eyes flashing through his glasses as he seemed to be making a decision.

Ignis kissed your forehead, “Maybe we can forgo these today.”

Then he turned to leave, he shut the door behind him with a simple, “I will see you later, my love,” and that was it. You were free, unchained with a whole day to plan. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that today was the day you were going to get out of here. Thank the Six because you knew you were running out of time.

\---

Freedom, it was strange. You didn’t know how long Ignis would be gone but it was probably going to be all day. You didn’t have any way of telling the time, apart from day and night. Most of the time he returned after dark and you hoped that it would be the same today. But you couldn’t guarantee it. You had to be prepared for anything. You would have to plan, to listen and wait, to make sure you were ready to react at a second’s notice. You only had this one chance.

You took stock of the room you were trapped in, now that you were free to walk around it for the first time.

The first thing you did was walk to the small kitchen area that was tucked away in the corner, hoping to find a knife. All of the drawers and cupboards were locked tight. You weren’t surprised by this but you were disappointed. You pulled on the drawers as hard as you could, but you weren’t strong enough to get them to open. You stopped, hopeful that you would be able to find something elsewhere to pry them open with.

You began to explore the rest of the room and entered the small dining area. You made an attempt to pick up one of the chairs, it was unwieldy but light enough. It would do in a pinch but you hoped you would be able to find something better. You wanted to rip one of the table legs off; they were long, thick and sturdy but they were screwed on tight.

You went to the bathroom next, all of the cupboards were locked and you were unable to pull them open. You opened the shower and realised that you would be able to take the shower head off without any tools. It probably took you an hour; not that you had any sense of time anymore but you finally wrenched the damn thing off the wall. It wasn’t the greatest of weapon, but it was metal and strong enough to deliver a few hits without breaking, so it would have do. It was far better than carrying a chair around anyway.

You walked back to the centre room, looking up at the small window. The sun was still up, you still had time.

You sat on the bed, clutching the shower head to your chest and trying to formulate a plan. You had no idea where you were but you just had to hope you were still in Insomnia. It seemed like you were. Ignis seemed to work at the Citadel and his accent was reminiscent of the Lucian aristocracy, you just had to  _ hope _ .

You didn’t know what district you were in, you could only assume you were in the government district but then again, you could be in a bunker on the outskirts of the city. Your plan was to get out, make it onto the street and just keep running until you found someone - anyone that could help you. You had no money, phone or identification but anything was better than being here. Someone would help you, they  _ had _ to. You just had to make sure not to drop your shower head, just in case you needed to break a window or something to get out.

Shit, you could do this.

It was terrifying, of course. You were worried that you would just end up having another panic attack and not be able to go through with it. You only had one chance and you had to make it count; last night just confirmed it. You could feel the effects of Stockholm Syndrome starting to sink in, feel the way that your entire brain chemistry was changing to accommodate your new surroundings and lifestyle. It was awful, the way that you were starting to think of this terrible, psychotic man as being kind and gentle, caring and  _ loving _ .

You sat on the stairs leading up to the large door, your only route to freedom, the shower head in hand for what felt like hours waiting for Ignis to return. You were on edge the entire time, exhausted with your heart pounding.

It felt like forever but then you heard it, the sound of the door lock click open. 

_ Fuck _ .

Your heart was racing as you watch the handle turn. Your breathing hastened as the door slowly started to open. You lifted the shower head up in a position to strike; adrenaline spiked through you, your blood pounding in your ears. You wouldn’t have been surprised if Ignis could hear your heart on the other side of the door.

Fuck. This was it; now or never. You gripped the shower head like a bat as you watched the door begin to slide open; you were off to the side so Ignis wouldn’t be able to see you until it was too late.

You waited until the door was open, waited until you saw a shoe pass through the door. Once you saw a leg you struck.

You swung the shower head and  _ smashed _ Ignis over the top of his head with it.

You watched through barely focused eyes as Ignis’ large body crumpled to the floor in a pile of long limbs. He was groaning, so you didn’t kill him, not that you cared. You stepped over him and looked out into freedom.

You were in a hallway, a long one with a single door at the end of it. You didn’t waste any time, Six. You ran towards that door like your life depended on it and well, it did didn’t it?

You tried the handle on the door but it was locked, fucking of course it was but that wasn’t going to stop you. You were high on adrenaline, blood pumping in your veins. You had just knocked a huge guy out and you weren’t going to be defeated by a damn door.

You started smashing your body weight against the door, hoping that eventually it would break. You rammed into it with your shoulder as the door groaned against you, gritting your teeth against the stinging pain.

The door rattled and caved in at the hinges and you stumbled as you fell through it, tripping over as you practically flew out. You struggled back to your feet, looking around. You were in a room now, it looked like a living room; with a large fucking window at the side of it. Thank the Astrals.

You walked towards it, looked out of it to see that you were on the ground floor of somewhere in suburbia; Excellent. You raised your shower head to break the glass, your freedom was so close that you could taste it.

It was as you swung your arm forward that the shower head was plucked from your grasp and thrown across the room.

_ Fuck _ .

You turned around slowly, not sure if you wanted to see what was behind you.

You didn’t get a chance, there was no time to react before you were thrown against the wall next to the window, Ignis’ large hand wrapped around your throat, constricting your airways slightly as he lifted you up until your feet were barely touching the ground.

You slowly turned your head to look up at him and felt your heart drop when you were faced with the most pissed off expression you had ever seen on Ignis. He looked angry, wild,  _ insane _ and you were terrified of what you had done.

You struggled against his grip, kicking and thrashing your arms but it was no use. Ignis was tall and strong, his limbs long enough that he was able to hold you far enough away that you weren’t able to cause damage.

You started to scream, hoping that someone, anyone; neighbours maybe would hear you and come to your aid but your scream was choked off by Ignis tightening his hands around your throat and completely cutting off your air flow.

Ignis tutted at you as you thrashed against him. He spat out your name in a vexed voice you had never heard before from him and it sent fear coursing through you. There was so much authority, anger and terror in his tone; who on Eos was this man?

You couldn’t breathe, you were choking and gasping, trying to get oxygen into your lungs. Your thrashing limbs started to slow as you didn’t have the oxygen to control them anymore. You were going to die, you were sure of it; Ignis was going to kill you today and then that would be it.

Your vision started going dark, colourful spots appearing in it as you lost all hope.

You were struck suddenly with the thought of how stupid you were. If you had just stayed with Ignis, with this man that loves you and cares for you; you could have lived a long and happy life together. If you survived this, that was what you were going to choose; Ignis. Because he would always win and he was everything that you needed; he was glorious and inescapable. You were stupid to even think otherwise.

The last thing you saw was a very annoyed Ignis looking down at you with sadness and emotion in his eyes as his glasses reflected your terrified face back at him.

Then, there was nothing but darkness.

\---

Your head ached when you wake up to a world that is dark. You can’t seem to muster the strength to wrench your eyelids open through the fuzzy pounding in your head. You can’t remember what happened or where you are; your brain is sluggish and unsure.

“Ignis!” Your brain supplies from somewhere in the haze and you think your lips form the word. You sounded shaky and terrified. You can hear a chuckle from somewhere in the room and it forces you to lift your heavy eyelids; the world is blurry out of focus. 

You try to stretch a hand to press against your head but but your arm won’t move. You pull at whatever is holding you but there’s absolutely no give. You turn your bleary eyes towards your arm and find it not where you expected it to be; you can’t see it. You tug again and realise that both of your arms are chained up above your head. You pull at them to no avail but you can hear the clinking of the chains that hold you suspended - wait suspended? You try to kick out your legs; finding them similarly restrained and not touching the ground.

That was a shock strong enough for your brain to kick in, your vision focusing. You’re in your room, well Ignis’ basement. You can see the large bed in the centre of the room, the large table in front of it that was covered in utensils of some kind. You couldn’t make them out and then, your eyes focuses on the large armchair that seems to have appeared out of nowhere and the person sat on it.

Ignis stood up from his seat. The first thing you noticed was that he was unusually dressed; his glasses were gone and you were subjected to the full brunt of his piercing, angry emerald gaze. He was wearing a dark button-down shirt, undone with the sleeves rolled all the way up his forearms which were flexing as he stepped towards you. He was also wearing tight leather pants, Six they were tight and sat hazardously low on his hips.

“Finally awake, I see,” Ignis snaps at you, his voice steady and dark as he stops in front of you. You’re suspended high enough off the floor that you’re at eye level with him and Six is he pissed.

You decide to stay quiet as he continues speaking. “I am so disappointed in you,” Ignis reaches up and grasps your chin in his gloved hand, forcing your gaze lock with his ice-cold eyes.

“I brought you here to keep you safe. You mean everything to me and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you outside. I will give you anything you could ever want, but we need to be able to trust each other.” He releases his hold on you and your head drops. Ignis turns away and starts walking towards the table in front of you. It’s then that you get a closer look and realise what’s on top of it.

Laid out on the table is an assortment of what looks like torture implements but as your eyes refocus after darting away in fear you realise it was more BDSM gear; whips, floggers, paddles and more. Your eyes dart up to Ignis who is perusing the implements like one would the menu at a restaurant.

“I can’t trust you right now and I am unsure how I feel about that.” Ignis turns back towards you and looks you up and down. Abruptly, you realise you’re naked; not that it really matters.

Ignis selects what looks like a riding crop from the table and stalks back towards you; running his fingers along the thin strip, adjusting to the feel of it in his hand. He walks right up to you, invading your personal space. He’s so close to you that you can see the imperfections on his skin, the acne scarring and moles that litter his complexion.

“I need to punish you Kitten. Unfortunately, there is no other option.” He starts running the leather of the crop against your skin and you tense up, trying to pull your body away from the touch but you can’t. “It is Valentine’s day today, you know? I had such a lovely evening planned but now I have had to make alternate arrangements.” He hits you with the crop in his hand with a gentle thwack and you jerk away from it. He didn’t hit you hard enough to hurt but there’s a sting lingering on your skin.

“I promise I will do no detrimental, lasting damage. Your safe word is Ebony, however be aware that I am not necessarily going to honour your use of it. You have to earn the privilege of your safe word.” Ignis hits your torso once again with the crop, hard enough this time for it to bite into your skin.

You look up at him with the fear that is starting to fill your eyes, you still haven’t said a word. You watch as his eyes soften slightly as his face loses some of its intensity.

Ignis says your name in a voice that is gentle and sweet, “My love. I still adore you, I still love you. But this  _ must _ be done. There is no other way, please understand.” He leans forward and kisses you with so much passion and adoration you almost think for a moment that he isn’t going to go through with whatever he had planned. You whimper against him, press your lips against his and kiss back, moving your tongue to lick against his lips, hoping that you will be able to subdue him and convince him to stop.

You pull his tongue into your mouth and start sucking on it, running your tongue against it in a crude imitation of a blow job. You haven’t given him one before; it’s not something he has forced you to do yet and you’re hopeful that the promise of it might change his mind.

Ignis rips himself away from you; his breathing hard and his eyes dark with lust. He looks at you, as you fight against your chains.

“Ignis,” you call out to him, soft and pathetic.

“Please behave Kitten, it will be much easier if you do.”

 

Ignis starts by running the riding crop against your skin. His touch is gentle, he just seems to be testing out your reactions. He hits you with it a few times, on your waist, across your lower back and you cry out as the hits connect. They sting for a few moments before fading and  you grew more worried about the fact that he seems to know what he’s doing.

Once your skin is covered in slight red lines from the leather crop he walks away from you, returning to the table. He looks over it for a moment but then comes back with something that looks awfully familiar.

“Do you remember this?” He asks you and of course you do, it’s only been a few hours. Ignis is holding the shower head in his hand; complete with a large dent at the end of it where you hit him with it. You nod hesitantly as he looks at you expectantly for an answer, “Words, pet,” he demands.

“Yes,” You whisper at him.

“Good, so you won't mind me returning the favour then.” Ignis watches you flinch at his words and he smirks sadistically that it sends chills straight down your spine. This man really is insane.

“I must say that utilising this implement was quite resourceful of you, however the metal is quite soft; it’s incapable of producing enough force against a human skull.”

Ignis turns and walks behind you, it’s only when you feel large gloved hands on your ass that you realise what he’s going to do. He gropes you and positions you the way he prefers; your bare ass stuck out in front of him. “There are other places however, where it will produce the perfect amount of force. Make sure you count for me, Kitten,” he says and you can feel the shift in air pressure as he winds back his arm.

You take a deep breath and wait. When the shower head finally connects with the meat of your ass; when the cold metal smacks hard enough into your skin to leave marks, you scream in pain; counting the very last thing on your mind.

Ignis tsks at you, “That was one. You  _ must _ count,” and then he hits you again, you scream out again. He’s so strong and fuck, there’s so much power in his strikes; like he’s actually intending to hurt you. This time, you’re coherent enough to whisper out a very quiet, “Two,” which seems to satisfy him.

“Very good,” he mutters and hits you again. And again. And again.

You are forced to count to thirty, your entire body trembling in pain before he stops. Your entire lower back is numb. He had spread the blows out but there’s not that much space on you. He rubs your raw skin with his leather glove and it makes you scream in pain but he doesn’t stop.

“You look divine like this, covered in red.” Ignis speaks as he moves to step in front of you again. he looks absolutely mad; insanity and lust burning in his dark eyes. He looks high on power and there is a very large bulge straining the front of his tight leather pants. He stands in front of you and cocks his hip out to the side. He knows where you’re looking and he watches your eyes drag over his body; lingering on what you can see visibly throbbing between his legs.

“Oh Kitten,” he purrs, “you want this?” But he doesn’t gesture to his cock, no. He starts undoing the buckle on his belt and then pulls the strap of leather roughly through the loops in his pants. The leather stays up as he folds and twists the belt in his hands. He pulls it tight between his hands and then starts wrapping the buckle end into his hand. You inwardly thanked the Six that he isn’t going to hit you with that part.

“Count for me again Kitten.” He says and he’s fast; you don’t even see him flick the belt out but you can feel it. It bites the skin on your front; leaving throbbing, stinging welts in its wake.

Ignis paints raised, red welts between your hips and thighs, that ache and pulse in the cool air. He is deadly accurate with the belt, flicking it out to bite and tear at your skin. You count to 15 between screams before he stops, his breathing heavy from exertion. Sweat starting to form on his chest and you watch almost entranced as beads of it drip down the lines of his abs and the V of his hips before disappearing inside his leather pants.

Ignis stalks towards you and yanks hard on your hair, forcing you to look at him, to look in his black, mad eyes. He forces you to arch your back in a way that pushes you against him, your aching hips brush against his clothed erection and he gasps out, pulling his hips away from you. It seems you’re still a weakness.

“This next item will be an absolute treat for you, Kitten,” he says as he releases your hair and leaves you swinging in your chains. There’s a flash of blue and suddenly there’s a dagger in his hand. It’s large, ornate and beautiful and you have no idea where it came from. You focus on it for a moment before realising with horror what he’s going to do with it.

Ignis seems to come alive with the fear in your eyes, he licks his lips and he stares hungrily at you.

“Now, now my pretty Songbird, I am trained in the use of these weapons. As long as you stay perfectly still, you shall not come to any harm.”

He holds the point of the dagger out in front of your eyes, you can see the light from the room glinting off the blade of it; you can tell it’s sharp and authentic. Ignis obviously doesn’t trust your judgement though because he presses the strap of his belt against the edge of the blade. The dagger cuts through the belt like butter and then there’s just two pieces of leather fluttering down to the floor.

Ignis smirks at you again. “Please hold your screams of pleasure until the end of the show.”

You’re too terrified to move, too terrified to even breathe as the blade of his dagger starts to move from in front of your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, you’re too afraid and choke on air as you feel the cool metal of the blade pressing just underneath your jaw. You want to swallow but you can’t; your throat is too dry, you want to move your head but you feel frozen, like you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. You’re a deer caught in the headlights, immobile in fear and unable to move even if it would save your life.

His sharp blade traces a path across the bottom of your jaw, he snakes it down to the pulse point hammering in your neck. You hear Ignis take in a deep breath as he presses the tip of the blade slightly harder into your pulse, digging the tip into your skin as your blood thrums under your skin making you worry that the frantic beating of your heart is going to be your demise.

Ignis keeps moving, trailing the blade away from your neck and down to your collarbone and you breathe a sigh of relief; not worried as much if he cuts you there. You can feel your body trying to shake but there’s too much fear keeping you still; your breath is shaky, and it feels like you can’t pull enough oxygen into your lungs.

“You did wonderfully, Kitten,” Ignis praises you as he trails his blade down from your collarbone, past the centre of your chest. He thankfully doesn’t linger there but he kneels in front of your suspended body and starts to run the knife down your belly and towards your hip.

“Your skin is so perfect, even reddened from earlier,” he says as he runs the blade across your right hip bone repeatedly. “You must forgive me, the thought of you wearing scars that I inflicted… It is difficult to resist.”

Ignis keeps precision over his control, you’re starting to grow accustomed to the bite of his blade against your skin now that it isn’t hurting, now that you think you can trust him to not cut you into pieces. It’s hot, somewhere blankly in the back of your mind that he has so much control over something so deadly, that he probably wouldn’t hesitate to use those weapons on anyone that tried to hurt you. He would be able to protect you.

There is a creak of leather as he pulls the blade from your skin and stands back up to his full height. He flips the blade expertly in his hand, playing with it as he stares at you; his eyes are even darker than they were before, if that was even possible.

“Did you enjoy that, Kitten?” he asks of you, his voice dark and sadistic; he wants you to say yes. Did you enjoy it? Now that the blade isn’t pressing at your skin and your body can begin to react you can’t say that the fear didn’t arouse you. Initially you had been petrified that Ignis would hurt you, you weren’t sure how angry he truly was at your escape attempt but he was still so utterly in control. The adrenaline was addictive, the high your body felt as it struggled not to breathe, not to move or react and now you were drawing in gasping breaths to try and get oxygen into your burning lungs, you could tell your hips were rocking into the air just in front of him.

“Do you want more?” He asks but he doesn’t wait for a response, he wouldn’t have honoured it even if you had said no anyway.

He is gentle with the blade as he runs it across your abdomen, you try desperately to slow your breathing and the rocking of your hips.

“Six,” he whispers against you, “I simply must mark you.”

There’s a nick and fuck it hurt. You scream, eyes squeezing shut as you struggle to fight against the sensations on your body. You hear Ignis swear from what sounds like far away and then there’s pressure against the pain. You struggle to turn and look down to see that Ignis has his face pressed against your belly where he cut you, he’s running his long tongue across the mark he left; lapping up the blood welling from it.

Ignis is moaning and you can feel the vibrations against your skin; he laps at you in long strokes until the bleeding seems to subside. He presses his hand against it and there’s another flash of blue and then the pain has gone. You struggle to adjust yourself to look down at your body. Curving yourself until you can see the faint, pink line running up your stomach now; it looks like a scar that has been there for a long time; not something that was just inflicted.

Ignis leans back to his full height, his lips painted a dark red with your blood and smudging on to his chin. You watch as he reaches down to palm at his crotch trapped within tight leather. You can see that he isn’t wearing underwear underneath them. You can see the small hairs peeking out over the top of the waistband barely containing the strain as he moans for the pressure against his cock.

“I want to do it again.” He says at you rather than to you and be bends down.

“No.” You say to him, panicked but he doesn’t heed you, “Ebony!” You shout and that causes him to stop, to tilt his head up at you. Ignis licks his bloody lips as he looks up at you with a manic grin, “Just a small mark.”

He presses his hand to your right hip and pulls the skin there taunt. You start thrashing in his grasp, chains clinking above and below your ears as you struggle against him. “Stop that, Kitten.” He orders at you but you don’t listen; he draws the dagger up and makes to press it against your skin. As much as you want to keep thrashing, you want to stay alive more, the motion forcing you to still for him.

Ignis purrs praise at you as he holds your hip steady, blade poised in his hand. He takes a deep breath and then you start screaming as the blade bites into your skin again. There are a few small quick slashes made to your skin, it’s excruciating and you can’t help but squirm when he pulls away.

Ignis leans down to lick at your wounds again, lapping at the blood messily as it drips down your hip and down his chin to his chest. There’s a flash of light again once again you stop screaming and you look down to assess the damage.

It’s horrifying and you wish you hadn’t. There, emblazoned permanently on your hip for all to see, in neat thin red lines of scar tissue somehow are two letters, I.S.; his initials.

You’re too shocked to react as Ignis pull himself to his full height and his dagger disappears in a spark of blue.

“Fuck, I simply must have you,” he growls. He leans forward to kiss you; he tastes sweet and metallic like your blood. He kisses you like you’re oxygen, like he needs you to survive while he grinds his clothed erection against your hip, the one he just marked.

He pulls away looking like a starved animal and then moves around behind you. You can hear a zipper, loud and clear in your ears as he moans again; he’s got his cock free obviously. There’s a hand threading in your hair and then yanking on it, pulling you back and making you arch your back away from him and your ass towards him.

He wraps his other hand around your hip, his fingers caressing the new mark on your hip as he pulls you until his throbbing cock is pressed against your entrance. He waits, like he’s waiting for you to give your consent but you know he isn’t going to ask for it.

Ignis thrusts himself into your tight heat with a single powerful thrust, moaning out to the Gods as he bottoms out inside of you. You cry out from the excruciating pain as the roughness of his pubic hair brushes against the sensitive red welts covering your ass. He pulls on your hair and it makes you tighten around his cock. He calls out your name like a prayer as he uses the hand on your hip to move you, to push you on and off his cock.

Ignis sets a rough pace that is almost impossible for you to keep up with. He uses your body, taking everything and not paying attention to your own pleasure, mostly because he knows you’ll still get off. His cock is fucking magical and you can never help yourself as he ruthlessly pounds against your g-spot; forcing moans from your lips.

“Scream for me, my Songbird,” he coos directly into your ear as he relentlessly continues to fuck you.

You come around his cock with a long yell as he yanks so hard on your hair you feel like he’s ripped some out. Ignis moans against you and bites down on the back of your shoulder as he fucks you through your orgasm, crying out for you as you tighten around him.

Ignis removes his hand from your hair and brings it around your throat. He starts to tighten his grip just as you’re coming down from your orgasm, cutting off your choked scream in your throat. You can’t breathe and you start thrashing against him but he doesn’t stop fucking you.

You know he’s close, you know his tells by now but you can’t focus on anything as your vision starts to go black.

You feel him cry out against you and pump his seed deep inside of you, feel his hands tighten on your throat to make your walls milk him through his orgasm. You can’t breathe, there’s no air and he isn’t letting go. This is it, this is how you’re going to die.

Your world turns black.

\---

 

You’re not sure when you fully regain consciousness again, you keep slipping in and out of the conscious world and then falling back into a place of bright colours. You’re not awake enough to function or move and your whole body is aching. Your ass hurts whenever you roll onto it, your hip aches and between your legs it burns.

Sometimes you’re conscious enough to look down at your body, to see the marks now marring your skin; the initials of your captor branded onto you for all of eternity. 

 

You sort of like how it looks.

That night, you’re barely aware of Ignis coming to see you again; curling up around you. He plastered your skin with kisses and apologised for everything he did, he told you he loved you over and over again while he rubbed ointment into the welts covering your skin.

The fog surrounding your brain cleared when he was there; you were filled with so much love and adoration for this man. Of course you had needed to be punished, you had tried to break the most sacred covenant he had provided for you and tried to escape. You couldn’t even remember why you had wanted to do that. Life with Ignis was everything you could ever want. He would protect you and pleasure you and give you  _ everything _ ; you weren’t sure why you had wanted to let that go.

He was warm and soft as you curled your aching body against him, he was everything you needed. This was the life that you needed, the life that you had chosen and you didn’t want it any other way.

“Ignis,” you said softly to him, your lips pressed against his chest. He pulled away and looked at you, his eyes full of adoration and love for you still. This was what you needed, a man that would never leave you, a man that would love you for the rest of time; you were ready. “I love you,” you say to him, trying to pour all of your love and devotion to him in your words. With the way his face lit up in a smile, you felt like you succeeded.

Ignis leant forward to capture you in a powerful kiss. It was a milestone; the start of your new life together as lovers. You had everything you ever wanted here, had everything you could ever need. You couldn’t remember why you ever wanted anything different, your home was right here with his arms around you; it was perfect and you would be his,  **_forever_ ** .

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?  
> Kudos and comments loved.
> 
> Come scream with me on tumblr (@rehrevving)


End file.
